First Words
by mandaree1
Summary: 'Today was the day. Today, he would utter his first words.' A new 'what if' look into why Omi is so bad with his speech and idioms.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown**

**Title: First Words**

**Summary: 'Today was the day. Today, he would utter his first words.' A new look into why Omi is so bad with his speech and idioms.**

**Warnings: A purely fan-made theory (obviously.)**

**...**

Today was the day. Today, he would utter his first words.

As a child, he had always had problems with speech. While most children learned how to speak and walk, he had been learning about honor and battle. His face was always highly expressive, so Master Fung and Dojo always knew what was on his mind, or what he needed. He had never had the _need_ to talk, so he instead focused his studies elsewhere, and so his verbal skills never truly developed.

Master Fung had tried to teach him. He'd been given multiple scrolls over the years, filled with beautifully written characters and words for him to practice. He'd rewritten them many times, giving back four full scrolls to his one, but he could never find it in him to say anything. Speech was the one thing his couldn't master, his only flaw. It was too confusing, with all the different ways to write and say things and the rules entailed and, well, everything about it. Eventually, he'd given up. He, however, had never had much hope in the first place. Nonetheless, words did not make actions, so he had no real need to break the barriers standing in his way.

So he poured himself into his studies. Read every scroll in the dojo, practiced every move he had multiple times no matter what the hour. His voice may have been muffled, but his battle prowess was better than anyone had ever hoped. He _would_ become a master, no matter what the cost. A wise master was one who could fight and carry himself honorably (two things he did well), and becoming one while mute would make him seem very mysterious to the people around him. Not to Master Fung and Dojo, obviously, but to the others first coming into the temple he would seem both reserved and mysterious, the two traits many people were said to respect and admire.

His daydreams about the future, quiet and strong, were broken by the announcement that Master Fung was considering training more apprentices in the future. So surprising the prospect was, he'd choked on his breakfast (well-cooked, tender meat with crisp, steaming hot rice), forcing Dojo to save him from dying of suffocation. Master Fung had raised an eyebrow, but continued on to say that while he was hoping to take a couple on in a few years or so, he _hoped_ that he would learn basic speech before doing so. After all, while he and Dojo were more than able to understand the points he was trying to get across, strangers would not. He'd tapped the edge of the table twice, a sign that he was asking to be excused, before standing up and taking leave off the dining room, his mind swirling with questions he couldn't ask. Apprentices? Why would he want more apprentices? Speech? He didn't need to talk to get through life... did he?

Thinking it over for a very long time, he realized that, yes, yes he did. Many people went through life without the ability to speak, without an ability he possessed and had instead squandered. Speech was a very important gift, one that he had been carelessly throwing away for far to long now.

He brought out the old scrolls, and studied endlessly. Every scroll, which he had already written so many times he knew how to write them with his eyes closed, was quickly memorized. Day after day, night after night, he sat in his small room, scrolls lying about him, reading. It was many months, many long, scroll-filled months, before he tried speaking. So weak from disuse, his voice box ached and his voice came out as high pitched squeaks with no substance. Eventually, after many attempts, certain vowels and words starting sounding more like actual words, instead of just squeaks and squawks. Squawks and squeak eventually turned to words, and then sentences, filling him with pride as speaking become more and more natural and his years of muteness slowly slipped away.

And so came the fun part: show and tell.

Stepping out the morning he'd decided to show off his skills (the night prior being the first night he had managed to read a whole book aloud- so, yes, he was feeling pretty proud about his progress), he smiled as the duo came by.

"Good morning, Omi."

"Morning, kiddo." Taking a deep breath, he turned and bowed towards the green dragon, uttering his first, true, ever heard by anyone else, words.

"Good morning, Dojo." The dragon froze in his tracks in shock. The older masters eyes lit up, the twitch of a smile overtaking his lips, as the boy turned and bowed to him as well. "And good morning, Master Fung."

"So _that_ is what you have been doing these past few months." The smile grew. "I'm glad you took my advice, Omi, it's wonderful to know their won't be anymore guesswork between us."

"I agree, Master Fung."

"I'm very proud." He patted the boys head. His features brightened with pride and honor. "Now, come, it's time for breakfast."

"Ohh, I call the good chair!" He jumped up, then took off for the dining room. He turned back to the motionless dragon.

"Dojo... I think it's time."

"Time to get the apprentices?"

"Yes."

**No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


End file.
